The Martian
by Book 'em Again
Summary: When a Martian is captured by the Nazis, the heroes receive orders to carry out a rescue mission. So Hogan decides to replicate a famous radio broadcast in order to pull off a caper that is out of this world. Written for the SSSW challenge.


To the untrained ear, the tapping of Morse code could sound otherworldly, foreign. It was amazing that a whole language could be summed up in a series of long and short clicks. But to Hogan and his men gathered around the radio, the sound was a sign that their lives would soon get very busy.

When Kinch finally put down his pencil, Newkirk lowered his cigarette and asked, "Well, what insane mission does headquarters have for us this time?"

Kinch furrowed his brow. "I may be decoding this incorrectly, because Mama Bear says that the Germans have captured a Martian."

Hogan had to force himself to remain still. This was not good, but the explanation was way above his men's pay grades. He was going to have to be careful about how he handled this.

Carter, however, had no such worries as his vivid imagination provided an explanation of its own. "A Martian! I knew the Nazis were monsters, but I never thought they'd go out of this world to wage their war."

"Maybe they're getting desperate and needed an ally as terrifying as them," LeBeau suggested.

Holding up a hand for silence, Hogan said, "Kinch, you have the code right. Now acknowledge and ask what they want us to do."

The serious tone in their CO's voice ceased any further speculation while they waited for more messages. Soon Kinch had their answer. "They've received intelligence that our Martian is being escorted by the Abwehr and will be held at the Hauserhof tomorrow night before going on to Berlin. We are to use any means necessary to retrieve our target. It is imperative that the Martian not make it to Berlin."

It was going to be a difficult mission, but Hogan didn't hesitate. "We'll comply. Now, does this Martian have a name? I wouldn't want to grab the wrong person."

"Aubrey Bates."

"That's a rather British name for an alien," Newkirk said.

LeBeau smirked. "It certainty explains why your country's cooking is not fit for human consumption. You're all Martians."

Hogan took a deep breath. He had already formed the semblance of a plan. But to pull off something this risky, his men would want to know why. They'd follow orders regardless, he had no doubt about that, but his team did their best work when they understood just how much was at stake. They had to know.

"The Martians are a group of code breakers stationed in London."

Newkirk whistled. "How good, sir?"

"Very. The intelligence I received was always on point."

Carter looked worried. "If Germans break him and learn which codes we've cracked…"

"They could win the war while we're busy trying to crack their new ones," Kinch finished.

"But how do we intend to rescue this guy?" LeBeau asked. "We've got no time and no idea what security will look like at the hotel."

Newkirk agreed. "Sounds like a suicide mission to me. Maybe Bates won't break."

Hogan stood firm as he looked at his men. "Everyone eventually breaks. We just have to hope that we aren't too late."

Kinch met his eyes. "So what's the plan, sir?"

"Carter, what sort of explosives do you think aliens would use?"

The glint of excitement was unmistakable in Carter's eyes as he considered the question. "Well, I've always heard that they're partial to ray guns and lasers beams."

"We don't have a ray gun, so what else can you give me?"

"With some sugar and the chemicals in my lab I could change the color of the smoke. Our aliens could like blue bombs or green bombs. Though, if they're Martians, I believe they'd prefer red."

"Red it is."

LeBeau looked skeptical. "I thought we were supposed to rescue this guy, not blow him up!"

"We aren't blowing up the Hauserhof," Hogan explained. "But we are going to convince the good people of Hammelburg that the aliens are blowing up something."

Kinch nodded. "Just like _The War of the Worlds_ radio drama from a couple years ago. You want to cause panic."

"Hey, I remember that," Carter exclaimed. "My uncle came running over to the house with a shotgun. He said the Martians were invading. I thought he was drunk. But according to the papers, a lot of people were fooled."

LeBeau laughed. "People really thought a radio drama was real?"

Hogan nodded. "Hitler even commented on the whole affair. He said it was proof of the decadent and corrupt state of our country."

Carter was insulted. "We can't let that stand, sir! We have to show him just how easily fooled the German people really are."

"Exactly," Kinch agreed.

LeBeau nodded. "Right."

"Sounds like fun," Newkirk admitted.

Knowing that his men were now fully behind him, Hogan grinned. "Okay, men, let's get to work. We have an invasion to plan."

* * *

Carter knelt in the dirt as he finished connecting the timer to his last bomb. He felt a little bad about blowing up some harmless trees; they just wouldn't provide the same satisfying boom as a bridge or factory or train.

Looking over at LeBeau, Carter asked, "Time?"

"Eleven minutes and twenty-two seconds until this bomb is supposed to explore."

"Tell me when it's eleven exactly." Carter adjusted the timer and waited. Over the past two hours, they had walked all over the woods north of Hammelburg, finding places away from people to set their bombs. They wanted to give the impression of a large attack, but in case the Germans decided to fight back, they wanted to keep civilians well out of the way. Unfortunately, that meant that a lot of trees would be sacrificing their lives tonight. At least, with the amount of rain they'd had lately, Carter was confident that this scheme wouldn't result in any forest fires.

"Time," LeBeau announced.

Carter pressed the button and then gestured for LeBeau to hurry. It was a five minute jog to the barn and they didn't have a lot of time to spare. Once they arrived, they didn't slow down; they quickly pulled the supplies out of the barn that was serving as their alien base for the evening.

The barn had been abandoned after being hit by an errant Allied bomb so it provided the seclusion and the space that they needed. Even though the aliens were imaginary, their invasion had required them to gather a lot of extra equipment.

"Work, you piece of junk!" LeBeau exclaimed as he kicked a stolen generator.

Carter frowned. "The Underground grabbed it from an anti-aircraft battery. It should work fine."

The proud Frenchman rolled his eyes. "It's German made."

Leaving his friend to his task, Carter quickly climbed up a ladder to remove the tarps covering a rather large, oddly shaped object that was perched on what was left of the barn's roof.

"Got it," LeBeau called out as the generator started humming.

"Ready up here."

"Where's the searchlight?"

Jumping back to the ground, the American said, "I'll get it."

"We have less than two minutes."

Grabbing the searchlight hidden inside the barn, he rolled it outside so they could hook it up to the generator. Once everything was set up, Carter began to shake with excitement. He just hoped that his bombs would work and go off on schedule. Everything in this operation was timed down to the second.

"Forty seconds."

LeBeau's calm voice steadied the nervous American. He pointed the light towards the ground and turned it on. They could do this.

"Ten, nine, eight…"

Carter echoed the count in his head and when his friend said 'three', he titled the light upward so that it illuminated the flying disc that the boys in the metal shop had worked so hard to build.

"One."

The ground shook and the air was filled with the great and wonderful sounds of an explosion. And best of all, the copious amount of smoke filling the air was indeed red.

Carter beamed. His red bomb had worked. He hadn't been sure that it would. In theory, he had known that the chemical formula should have worked, but his bombs had a habit of not always behaving according to orders. It wasn't his fault, explosives tended to be temperamental at best. But he had done it!

The invasion had begun.

* * *

 _It's good to be back,_ Kinch thought as he settled into the announcer's chair at the Hammelburg radio station with Newkirk seated beside him. When he had mentioned _The War of the Worlds_ yesterday, he never imagined that they would be replicating the famous broadcast. But here he was, about to pull off the scam of the war.

As the music came to an end, he checked the time, turned Newkirk's microphone on and then nodded for his friend to begin. Reading from their script, the Englishman said, "It is always good to listen to one of the Fuehrer's favorite songs. Now I bring you updates of the great and glorious victories of the Third Reich. We have resumed our bombings of London and as we speak, the cowardly English are cowering in fear. On the Russian front today, our brave men have pushed back a desperate Russian attack. Moscow will soon be within our reach! In Italy, the Luftwaffe…"

Suddenly, the building shook with the sounds of a distant explosion. Grabbing his microphone, Kinch barked, "Achtung! Achtung! We have just received reports of a bombing north of town. I advise all civilians to take the normal precautions. We will provide updates as they are available."

"Take heart," Newkirk added. "The German spirit is strong and the Fuehrer's will is always just. In no time, our brave men will have beaten back this latest attack. Heil, Hitler!"

Placing a record on the turntable, Kinch said, "In the meantime, boost your spirits by listening to one of the favorites of our brave fighting men, _Lili Marlene_."

The vocals of Marlene Dietrich provided a welcome respite for the two men to sip some water and prepare for the next scene. Things were going to get interesting very quickly. They waited for two more explosions before Kinch purposely ruined the record trying to stop the music as swiftly as possible.

"Loyal citizens," Kinch announced, "we have received reports that these explosions are not the work of Allied bombers. We have been betrayed by saboteurs in our midst. Rest assured that the Gestapo will protect us … wait…what?" He covered his microphone with his hand as Newkirk loudly whispered gibberish in his ear. "I have just been informed that we have on the telephone an eye-witness to these cowardly attacks. Listen in as I hold the phone to the microphone."

Newkirk winked at Kinch and then said in the voice of an elderly man, "You should have seen it! A large disc, a large flying disc came down from the air and landed on my neighbor's barn. It had huge guns that shot out red lasers. There's red smoke everywhere. Where's the Wehrmacht? Where's the Luftwaffe? You have to send soldiers."

Kinch leaned into his microphone. "Have faith. I'm sure that this unknown assailant will be no match for the superior German might."

"Honey," Newkirk screeched in a woman's voice. "A door's opening! There's something coming out! It's a…! It's a…"

Kinch covered his ears as Newkirk let out a loud high pitched wail that could only be qualified as an assault on the eardrums. As his friend started to fade in volume, Kinch signaled for him to stop. After a few moments of awkward silence, the American said, "Hello, hello, are you there? Sorry, but we appear to have lost the connection."

Newkirk, now speaking again in his usual German accent, added, "If I didn't know better, I'd say they were talking about aliens."

"Please," Kinch snorted. "Such delusions are unbecoming of a loyal subject of the Fuehrer."

At that moment, another rather loud explosion sounded in the air. Carter's timing couldn't have been more perfect.

Newkirk allowed himself to jump back in his seat. "That sounds close! Thankfully, we have with us here at the station General Kinchenberger to provide an update to this distressing situation."

"Thank you," Kinch said solemnly as he fell into character. "I can confirm that the town of Hammelburg is currently experiencing a series of explosions of unknown origin. The reports of an enemy aircraft outside of town, also of unknown origin, are true. All civilians are ordered to shelter in place until this threat has passed. A threat, which I can assure you, loyal citizens of the Third Reich, we will defeat!"

Kinch was grinning madly as he let Newkirk speak for a spell. Who knew that an alien attack would be so much fun?

* * *

The chaos that broke out in the Hauserhoff after General Kinchenberger's announcement was a wonder to behold. Sipping his beer, Hogan enjoyed listening to all the reactions. It appeared that only a few people were buying the alien story, but most seemed more than willing to entertain the possibility that this was some new Allied weapon. The prospect of this being the Russians caused the most distress. But Hogan had to give points for originality to one hysterical barmaid for suggesting the Chinese. The more sensible members of the crowd had long ago retreated to the cellar to wait out the attack.

Olsen, who had perfected the art of moving discretely through a crowd during his many jobs outside the wire, moved over to his CO. "Sir, I overheard the Abwehr Major order the guards to get the truck. They're moving our target out."

Leaving his drink on the table, Hogan followed the Sergeant outside. They were going to have to be quick. Luckily, it was absurdly simple work for the two of them to overpower the driver and his guard and then change into their uniforms. The Major hadn't even spared them a second glance as he and another guard loaded their prisoner into the back and then barked at them to drive south.

Hogan was content to follow orders, but once they were a good distance outside of town, he made his move. Slamming on the brakes, he stopped the truck.

"What's going on out there?" the Major screamed.

Hogan jumped down to the ground. "We have a problem, sir. There's something blocking the road."

Still grumbling, the Major and guard exited the truck only to be greeted by pistols in their backs. "Freeze," Hogan ordered.

The man raised his arms as he declared, "You aren't my driver."

"Nope," Hogan said as he relieved the man of his weapons. Then after checking that Olsen was finished with the other guard, he ordered, "Run."

"What?"

"Run fast or we'll shoot." Hogan lifted his revolver and switched off the safety.

That threat was enough for the other guard, who turned out to be a pretty good sprinter. With a growl and one last frightened look at the gun, the Major turned and hurried after him.

Pleased, Hogan couldn't help but smile as the men disappeared out of sight. But when he holstered his weapon and turned to check on the prisoner, he was hit in the head with a sharp object.

"Hey, we're res…" Hogan hollered as he looked over at the angry young woman in a British uniform who was hefting a high heel over her head, preparing for another blow. " _You're_ the Martian!"

Her eyes flashed with suspicion. "Who's asking?"

"Colonel Robert E. Hogan. United States Army Air Forces. I have orders to see you safely back to England."

"You expect me to trust the word of a man in a German uniform?"

"Lady, look around. All this commotion is for you. You can stay here and be forced to betray your country before you die or come with me and live. Choose quickly, we don't have much time."

She lowered her shoe. "You called me a Martian. Not even my captors called me that. Do you know what I do?"

"You're a code breaker. A good one. And one we can't afford to leave in Nazi hands. So I will ask nicely one last time: will you come with me, Miss Bates?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Sergeant Olsen will keep you company. "

Once Olsen was in place to deter any more sudden moves on the part of their 'friend', Hogan returned to the driver's seat. Shaking his head, he restarted the truck. Female code breakers! Whoever would have thought of such a thing?

* * *

Nothing could have wiped that smile off of Newkirk's face as he performed for his largest audience ever. In a very serious voice, he said, "We now have reports that the red smoke may be dangerous. We repeat that it is imperative that you shelter in place. Do not leave your homes. I repeat, do not…"

"Hans, what is that?" Kinch interpreted, a touch of panic entering his tone.

"It's the smoke." Then jumping out of his chair, Newkirk yelled into his microphone, "O God, it's coming in here!" Coughing, he gasped, "It burns…it…"

Kinch screamed as the Brit fell to the ground with a loud thump. Then very carefully, the American reached over and cut off the feed. All that those listening at home would now hear was static. Their job was done.

* * *

LeBeau crept carefully through the woods as he and Carter began their long trek back to Stalag Thirteen. If – by some miracle – this fake invasion plan worked, the last thing he wanted was to have to explain their presence in these woods to any investigating patrols.

Suddenly, a familiar sound caused the Frenchmen to stop walking and grab his friend's arm.

"What?" Carter asked.

The sound was getting louder, which could only mean one thing. "Down!"

The two POWs hit the dirt just as a low flying bomber buzzed the area. The whine of a bomb rapidly falling from above convinced LeBeau to start making peace with his God. But when the explosion passed and they were still in one piece, he slowly lifted his head and looked behind him.

It appeared that their plan had worked – too well.

"LeBeau," Carter whispered, his voice teetering on the edge of panic. "The Luftwaffe just blew up our flying disc."

Shaking, LeBeau didn't even try to hide his fear as he jumped to his feet. "Let's get out of here!"

Without another word and no longer caring about being spotted, the two POWs sprinted as fast as they could in the direction of Stalag Thirteen. Thankfully, they managed to avoid any patrols though it was clear that Germany had mobilized the Luftwaffe; planes continued to fly overhead in search of an imaginary enemy.

Once they were safely back in the tunnels, LeBeau wanted nothing more than to collapse in his bunk and sleep for the next year. But Carter appeared to have gotten his second wind and hurried to the radio room where the others were waiting.

"Colonel! You won't believe what happened. The Luftwaffe bombed our flying disc!"

"And we were right there!" LeBeau added. "We almost died!"

"You seem fine to me," Newkirk said, shrugging off his friend's concern as his attention was instead fully fixated on the goddess in British uniform sitting next to him.

LeBeau's jaw dropped to the floor. "You're a woman!"

Aubrey smiled. It was beautiful. "The majority of personnel at my station are."

"Mon Colonel, I hereby request a transfer to Mars."

Hogan rolled his eyes. "Denied. Now both of you go change; if they called out the Luffwaffe then it's only a matter of time before someone gets suspicious and orders Klink to hold a roll call."

LeBeau only hesitated for a second before scurrying off. However, he did succeed in changing back into his regular uniform in near record time. He did not like how close Newkirk was sitting to Bates. He would hate to see such a woman wasted on his friend. Especially since it was so difficult to find a beautiful woman – well, any woman at all – with the war on.

Grabbing a stool, LeBeau smiled as he sat down on her other side. Leaning close, he said, "Mademoiselle Bates, if you are a Martian, you can invade my world anytime."

Newkirk snorted. "And you call yourself a Frenchman using lines like that."

"Oh, yeah? I'd like to see you do better."

"He didn't," Aubrey said. "He used the exact same line five minutes ago."

LeBeau rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised? Hypocrite!"

Newkirk draped an arm around the lady's shoulder. "You were moving in on my girl!"

"Your girl? She's my size!" LeBeau declared as he leaned his head on her shoulder. It was perfectly placed.

"She's British!"

Kinch looked up from the radio with a bemused look on his face. "Don't mind them, ma'am. We don't see a lot of women around these parts."

Shrugging off the two POWs, Aubrey stood and walked over to the radio. "I noticed."

Changing tactics, LeBeau also rose, but he headed toward the ladder. "You must be feeling peckish after your ordeal. I will make you tea with scones, jam, and clotted cream."

Newkirk was incredulous. "You'll cook British food for her but not for your ole chum."

LeBeau shrugged. "She's prettier than you."

"Can it, you two," Hogan ordered. "LeBeau, get the lady some food but keep it simple. We don't need to attract Schultz. Newkirk, find her some comfortable clothes. That uniform looks fit for rags. And Carter," he added as the American reentered the room, "make sure the guest quarters are ready for Miss Bates."

"Yes, sir!" Carter said as he hurried off.

However, Newkirk shuffled off slowly, probably debating whether he could get away with 'measuring' Bates. LeBeau didn't blame his friend, for he wasn't too pleased with his CO's orders either. It appeared that Colonel Hogan intended to keep them all too busy to flirt. _Officers!_ They took all the fun out of war.

* * *

The night was dark as three figures hid in the bushes next to a large open field. Hogan turned to the lovely lady whom he would soon see off and said with a slight smile, "I just realized that I never asked how you ended up in the mess."

Aubrey smiled back. "I received a telegram from my mother saying there was an emergency and to come at once. My CO gave me leave, and they grabbed me on the trip home. I must have been drugged because by the time I woke up, I was in Germany."

The plan was brilliant in its simplicity. A fake telegram, an unassuming young women, no one would have expected her to be grabbed. And such a lovely young woman, too! Even now with her soft hair piled atop her head and covered by a cap and her nice curves hidden under an oversized shirt and baggy trousers, she was still beautiful. _Quit torturing yourself – she's leaving!_

Right on time, the plane appeared in the sky and Newkirk turned his flashlight on and off in the code that told the pilot it was safe to land.

Gesturing toward the sky, Hogan announced, "There's your foo fighter now."

Aubrey chuckled as she shook her head. "Foo fighters, an alien invasion, Martians… I'm not sure whether I'm supposed to laugh or be sizing us all up for straightjackets."

"Miss, you've seen how we operate. If we don't go crazy once in a while, we'll all go crazy."

Aubrey moved closer, reached out her hand and touched his cheek. "Well, I'm just glad that you went crazy for me." Then she leaned forward and let her lips touch his.

Hogan returned her surprising fire with his own and for an all too short moment they let themselves forget the war and the distance that would soon separate them.

A loud and very unwelcome clearing of a throat caused Hogan to break off the kiss. It took a lot of willpower for him to not glare at the man responsible. He would have to find an excuse to put the Corporal on KP tomorrow.

Pointing towards the plane now sitting in the field, Newkirk said, "You're holding up the war."

Reluctantly, Hogan escorted the lady to the all too eager pilot charged with getting her home. Then the plane took off and he sighed as he watched the lovely lady return to her world.

Still miffed at his CO's luck, Newkirk said, "You know, sir, it really doesn't matter where the bird is from, some guys just have all the luck."

Smirking, Hogan countered back, "I don't know, Newkirk, somewhere out there I bet that there is a four eyed, tentacled alien destined to be your mate."

Newkirk recoiled in horror while Hogan laughed. But the Brit quickly recovered and joked back, "I think I'd rather have a giant feathered friend. Do you think there really is life on other planets?"

Happy that his friend seemed to be over his fit of jealousy, Hogan looked up at the stars and, for a moment, marveled at the size of the universe as he pondered the question. Who knew what was really out there? But for all the talk about alien invasions and wars between planets, he just hoped that when men reached the stars that they would finally find the one thing that eluded them here on earth: peace.

* * *

Author's Notes:

My challenge line was: "If we don't go crazy once in a while, we'll all go crazy." This line was originally spoken by Hawkeye in the M*A*S*H episode "Bulletin Board."

Huge thanks goes to honu59 for the quick and awesome beta job!

On the code breakers - The process by which the Allies were able to successfully decrypt cipher messages became known as Ultra. The most famous group of Allied code breakers were stationed at Bletchley Park in Buckinghamshire. A branch of the main group was stationed at a department store on Regent Street in London and given the codename the Martians.

Women were originally brought in to do the clerical work for the code breakers, but after a group of WRENS (Women's Royal Naval Service) were assigned to Bletchley Park, these women proved that they were just as capable as men in operating the machines and decrypting the codes. Overall, about 75% of the personnel involved in Ultra work were women. Unfortunately, due to the secretive nature of the work, these women's contributions were not publically known until they were declassified in the 1970s.

Ultra was so successful that it is now believed that it shortened the war by years. Historian Andrew Roberts, wrote, "Because of the invaluable advantage of being able to read Rommel's Enigma communications, Montgomery knew how short the Germans were of men, ammunition, food and above all fuel. When he put Rommel's picture up in his caravan he wanted to be seen to be almost reading his opponent's mind. In fact he was reading his mail."

Sources: "Lesser-Known Facts of WWII" by George Duncan. Wikipedia articles on Ultra and Bletchley Park.

"The War of the Worlds" radio broadcast is a true story. Though it was a case where the news about the event became a bigger story than the actual event – Hitler really did comment on it. Historians believe that the newspapers intentionally exaggerated the claims of panic in order to make radio look bad as the new technology was seen as a threat to the newspaper business.

Source: _The War of the Worlds_ (radio drama) article on Wikipedia


End file.
